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User blog:SirLinkalot96/The Future of Greg Ryder: Part 3
JUNE 29th, 2020, OLD BULLWORTH VALE, 8:19 AM. . . . I got off the bus near the Bullworth Pier, and I gotta say, pretty much everything looks the same as it did 10 years ago when I left this dump. I then realized, today's my birthday. I am now 28 years old. For my birthday present, I have to spread my mother's ashes off the pier. Some birthday present, huh? I walked to the end of the pier, clutching my mother's box of ashes under my arm and I opened the box. "Hey, Mom. It's me, Greg," I started talking to the ashes, as though she was there with me, "I just want to let you know, that I am going to miss you so much," I couldn't believe it, I just burst into tears, and I felt all the pain bottled up inside me get released after all these years. I sobbed, "And I just want to say I'm sorry because I'm such a terrible son! I became a criminal because I couldn't get a job, and I killed people for a living. As a criminal and as a soldier. My life is just filled with death, drugs, robbing, and stealing. What do I do, Mom? I'm dead broke, got no place to live, and I can't even get a job!" I cried for several minutes and I gotta say: I wasn't embarrassed that I was crying. I felt relieved. Like I needed to get all this anger and sadness out of my system that was there for a long time. "I'm. . I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain to you. My life's a mess right now, and I just really miss you is all, and now, I'm going to let you go. I love you, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me, and tell him. . . that I love him too." I started taking small handfuls of my mother's ashes and sprinkling them into the water. "Say the same to Todd." I added. Just like you wanted, Mom. Just like you wanted. . . LATER, 9:17 AM, OLD BULLWORTH VALE. . . I was sitting on the ground by the pier near the sidewalk, with a plastic cup with some quarters in it. I felt worthless. Here I am, begging for spare change from rich people who apparantly need quarters more than a homeless war hero. "Spare some change, sir?" I asked a man walking by. He put two quarters in my cup and I said, "God bless you." I then saw some Bullworth students walking by me and I overheard them, "I dare ya to kiss that homeless guy!" One of them pointed at me, "Ugh, gross!" He then kicked over my change cup, spilling all my money on the ground. They walked away laughing hysterically and left me to pick up my change. One of the kids shouted, "Get a job, you freakin' bum!" "God damn punks." I muttered to myself. 12 years ago, I wouldn't have taken this kind of shit from brats like that, instead, I would have beaten them to a bloody pulp and made them apoligize. But after I got back from the war, I realized how much I preferred to be given shit from kids like them instead of some other people I had the displeasure of knowing. I collected my change and put it back in the cup. I saw a familiar face coming towards me. "Spare some change, please?" I asked. I knew who it was once he was standing in front of me: Michael Diaz. Multi-billionaire, one of the richest people in the Western Hemisphere, a huge charity donor, and an old friend from Bullworth Academy. I recognized him from all the magazines and tabloids he's in nowadays. "Michael?" I asked as I stood up. Michael smiled, "Homeless are we now, Gregory Ryder? Is this what becomes of 4.0 grade point average students at Bullworth?" Michael hasn't lost one bit of his smartass attitude since we were kids. I forced a grin and he asked me with a smirk on his face, "What are you doing, man? Shouldn't you be saving the world, or getting kittens out of trees, or something?" He must be referencing my past hero antics. I looked down chuckling and thought, "If your idea of 'saving the world' is begging for spare change on a sidewalk and being homeless, then yeah, I'm handling that pretty well. I'm no hero." "That's a lot of words from the Vice President of Queen Industries. Helping vets, bullied students, and getting resources to those in need." I replied, returning the joke, "It seems you've done a lot of hero work since high school." "Yeah, well, I had a hero in the grade above me," Michael returned the favor, "Hey, remember when you were a senior and I was a junior, and we spiked the Jocks' punchbowl at Prom?" I had no idea what he was talking about for a second, but then I instantly remembered that night. Man, that was so much fun! I chuckled, "See the looks on their faces?" We both laughed, remembering the good old times when everything was so simple and easy. I miss those days. "So what brought you to Queen Industries?" I asked Michael, "You remember Jimmy Queen, came my Sophmore year, right?" Michael asked, taking me on a trip down Memory Lane, "Well, he is the President of Queen Industries. About three years ago he gave me a call in the dead of night. Ironic isn't it?" Michael joked, "And he asked me to help him run Queen Indsutries. First, we were just helping people who wre bullied in High School, then we spread to Veterans, and finally we are the leading supplier for the Military." Michael finished. Man, sounds like Michael has everything going for him! "I know, I saw trucks with Queen Industries on the side, dropping off supplies for us." I said, thinking back to the war. "You were in the conflict-" Michael started off but I interuppted him, "It was no conflict, it was war. I saw many brave men and women die because of stupid decisions our government made, men and women who will never see the light of day again. Every time I think about it, I feel guilty because I made it." Michael paused for a moment and asked with sarcasm in his voice, "You expect that to be on a fortune cookie?" I didn't say anything while Michael continued, "I have enough money, we can contact the Chinese and make them put it on one." Michael then smiled and beckoned me to follow him. We walked to his house, no scratch that. It was a huge ass mansion, and I think I saw it on that show "I'm Rich" While we were walking through the front yard to the door, I was awestruck staring at Michaels house. I asked, "So this is all yours?" Michael answered jokingly, "Well, techincally it's my wife's too, but it's better for business when I say it's mine." Michael took me into the guest bedroom, which so huge that it felt like a master bedroom. Michael said, "You'll be staying here." I shook my head and looked at Michael seriously, "No, Michael. You don't have to do this for me." "Well, as comfy as those docks are, nothing beats a nice water bed." Michael joked, "You're staying. Also, I think I might have a job for you. One of our security guards just quit. Something about being kneed in the face or whatever." Wow, must have been a pretty good shot if it made them want to quit their job! "So, are you in?" Michael asked me. I replied, "Yeah, sure. I'll buy an apartment so I don't have to live off you." Michael chuckled, "Well, good. Job application's on the table." I turned around and picked up the application. "Fill it out, give it to me and you start out the night shift tonight." Michael instructed. I pryed, "You keep a job application handy?" Michael laughed, "Look, when you own a billion dollar company, you can tell me how often you don't hire people!" With that, Michael left the room. I closed the door and took off my boots. I filled out the application and when I was done, I looked in the liqour cabinet in my room and grabbed a bottle of vodka. Normally, I don't steal other people's booze, but it's been a while since I had a drink. I opened up my bottle of Valium and took three pills and used the vodka to wash them down. I set the rest of my pills on my bedside table. I then took several more sips of vodka and fell over face first onto my water bed, passing out. . . Category:Blog posts